


Can I have this dance?

by milkywayhitchhiker



Category: Captain America, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-13
Updated: 2012-10-13
Packaged: 2017-11-16 04:57:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkywayhitchhiker/pseuds/milkywayhitchhiker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She's still waiting for you, Captain."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can I have this dance?

Linda Grant walked down the long corridor of Evergreen Retirement Home of New Jersey, carefully balancing a pile of empty trays on her arms when she heard the noise.

The corridor seemed empty and quiet. The residents’ rooms were lined up to her left – all doors were closed and she couldn’t hear the alarm either. So the muffled sound of someone’s sobs weren’t coming from the flats, they were not made by one of the elders. She knew that if some emergency had happened to one of their residents, the relatives would’ve already screamed their head off for help and there would be horrible mess and chaos everywhere.

On her right was a wide glass door, which lead to the terrace. The nurses usually spent their brakes there, smoking, drinking coffee, gossiping and joking. Linda had not been invited to these meetings so far – she was the newest and the youngest one among them and with her 26 years she could’ve been the daughter of any of them. Her youth reminded her colleagues of their ages, so they tried to avoid her company whenever they could. Face to face, they were all pleasant and kind, like her kindergarten teachers used to be, but Linda knew that she was not part of the team. And probably never will be.

The sobs seemed to come from there. Linda lowered the trays to the floor and hesitated for a moment in front of the ajar door. She could only make out a woman’s figure, elbowing on the low stone wall of the terrace.

Linda finally pushed open the door and approached the woman, expecting to find one of the nurses, probably Anne who was just going through a terrible divorce… But when she heard the footsteps, the woman turned around and Linda was surprised to see her unfamiliar face.

“I- I’m terribly sorry,” she said quickly. “I just heard the noise and thought… you might need some help.”

“No, no, it’s okay. I’m fine. But thank you dear,” answered the woman, wiping away her tears with quick movements, without even smearing her make-up. Linda glanced at her. She was old enough to be her mother as well, a woman in her late sixties with elaborately braided grayish-chestnut hair and large green eyes. They were wide as a child’s and tears pooled in them as she returned her gaze.

“I’m sorry,” Linda apologized again, trying to break the heavy silence. “I don’t think we have been introduced. I’m Linda Grant, the new nurse of the 2nd floor.”

“My pleasure,” the lady’s handshake was firm and steady, though her lower lip still trembled. “My name is Lorraine Faye Patterson. But please, just call me Lorraine.”

“I assume your parents live here.”

“Just my mother,” nodded Lorraine with a sad smile. “My father passed away 5 years ago. That was when we decided to move her here. I have 2 younger brothers, you see, but we are all really busy, we have our jobs, our own children, our lives, but we couldn’t just leave her there… alone.”

Linda nodded regretfully. She knew this story, this situation, this voice far too well. She has seen it on dozens of faces, heard it in voices, saw it on features.

It is always the same. A broken couple. The loneliness of the ones left behind. Children, who live far away, or travel a lot, or work a lot, or just simply don’t care. A retirement home in the outskirts, the perfect solution. Cancelled visits, delayed arrivals, fake smiles and awkward chat. The guilt.

But she didn’t think that Mrs Patterson was sobbing on the terrace because she felt guilty. Linda could see that she had been repeating this lie “We are all so busy, we couldn’t take proper care of her, she needs surveillance, this is the best for her, we are doing the right thing” so many times to herself that by now she believed in it completely.

“Who’s your mother, Lorraine?” she asked gently.

“Peggy Carter,” came the curt answer.

“Ms Carter? Really? Oh, she is such a lovely person! She remarks that she likes my name every time we meet.”

Tears filled the lady’s eyes again. “You know that she has Alzheimer’s disease, don’t you?”

Of course Linda did. And she could imagine how scary it was for her children to see her like this. So she smiled reassuringly and said, “Yes, but she’s still in the early phase. Provided the medical treatment and care, the diagnosed patients could have up to 7 more years to live. And with her 94 years, I have to say, your mother has already outlived most of our previous residents, may they rest in peace.”

Lorraine looked at her with such desperation in her eyes, the words froze in Linda’s throat. “You haven’t seen her today yet, have you?” she asked quietly. “She’s worse. She-,” her voice chuckled, but she pulled herself together. “She didn’t recognize me,” she announced in an emotionless voice.

Damn. This could mean the beginning of the moderate phase.

“I’ll call the doctor and we’ll run some tests,” she assured her. Lorraine only nodded thankfully and left her. A couple of minutes later Linda could hear a car, and she could see the golden cloud of dust as Peggy Carter’s daughter disappeared.

*

They did run those tests, but so did the family. Linda’s been working here for more than 6 months – which included Christmas and Women’s Day – but no one has ever come to visit Ms Carter. But in the past 2 weeks, her children came and went constantly. One of them stopped by almost every day; sometimes alone, sometimes with their siblings or even with their families. Peggy had 3 children, 4 grandchildren and 5 great-grandchildren as well.

It seemed to Linda that they could not believe what was happening to their mother. They came with photo albums and videotapes and would spend hours in an armchair beside her, telling her stories about her life and their role in it, while Peggy just sat there. Sometimes she did seem to remember a specific moment, but most of the time, she just stared blankly at the pages or at her grandchildren’s face and then announced, “I think we haven’t met before. My name is Peggy Carter,” and introduced herself to her family.

Even though she seemed to have forgotten that she had great-grandchildren at all, and could only remark upon her grandchildren the fact that their faces seemed familiar, her long-term memory was intact.

She could remember each popular song’s lyrics from the 1940s and ‘50s, as well as her old friends’ names and faces, the “current” fashion trends, every officer’s name in the army she had served together with and even Central Station’s train schedule. She knew all these thing, yet she failed to recall her own children’s names.

But there were moments when Peggy proved that the disease didn’t delete every person from her mind. Or at least, not the way they were expecting it.

Like when Peggy’s “youngest” son, Thomas Gregory, a man in his early fifties, arrived with his wife, Kelly, whom Peggy had only seen for a handful of occasions in her life. And whom she definitely didn’t place in her long-term memory.

But as soon as she caught sight of her, Peggy sprang to her feet and – without noticing his son - crossed the room with wobbly steps and embraced her.

“Sheila, my dear! It’s been forever and yet you haven’t aged a day!” she laughed while everyone else around her stood in shock. She couldn’t be convinced that the young woman with shoulder-length, curly blonde hair standing in front of her in a short pink dress was not her lifelong friend. And no one had the courage to tell her that the real Sheila had died at least 20 years ago in a car accident.

“It’s one of the symptons too,” the doctor explained to Thomas later. “In this phase, most patients suffer from occasional illusonary misidentification. She can’t recognize the people from her short-term memory anymore, but her mind associates the familiar faces with those of her past.”

It later became crystal clear that in Peggy’s case, these “misidentifications” were not occasional. It seemed like she’d gone back in time. If anyone had asked her the date, she certainly would’ve answered that it was the summer of 1944. And time had stopped there for her.

One time, his elder son, Cory James visited her with his whole family: his wife Barbara, his daughter Jennifer, his son Stephen and his son’s twin daughters, Lily and Susan.

Barbara and Cory kept talking and talking and talking for hours while the little girls were lying on the carpet, drawing.

“Nanna, look what I made!” Lily crawled to her great-grandmother’s lap and handed her a sheet of paper. It depicted elephants and zebras and clowns – and a monkey riding a monocycle. When she saw the animal, Peggy’s eyes widened and stared at the picture with her mouth open.

“Oh yes. We’ve been to the circus yesterday, so since then they keep drawing these,” Cory explained.

As Peggy looked up, tears were shining in her eyes. Her gaze found his grandson and a relieved smile spread on her face.

“Bucky,” she said in a silky, soft voice. “I knew you were not dead. This is from Steve isn’t it?” she asked with vacant eyes and before the young adult could answer, she continued. “I remember the day he made this. It was the evening before he saved you. Don’t tell him that, but I was so terribly afraid that night – I thought I’d lost him forever. Even before I could tell him that I love him…” Her eyes wandered away, but then she shook herself and looked back at “Bucky”, “You’ll keep this secret, right? I want to tell him myself… As soon as he returns from the Atlantic… I’ll be the surprise waiting for him at the airport… Oh, Bucky, it’s so good to have you back!”

“Who’s Bucky? And who is this Steve she’s talking about?” Barbara turned to her husband. “I thought your father’s name was Roger.”

“It was,” Cory answered with a grim look on his face.

Shortly after they left. After that, their visits grew thinner.

And after another handful of disappointing meetings, the children’s visits stopped again.

*

It was a hot, lazy August evening when the huge black car stopped outside the retirement home. A man got out and slammed the door. Linda could see it from the upper terrace on floor 2 that despite the heat, he was wearing a grey three-piece suit and sunglasses. She followed him with her eyes as he crossed the park until he entered the house and disappeared from her sight. A minute after, her phone began beeping.

“Come down to the reception. There’s a man here who wants to talk to you,” Anne’s bored voice told her, then without waiting for an answer, she hung up.

She was not surprised when the guy in the suit was waiting for her at the help desk.

“Miss Grant,” he greeted her with a strong handshake. “I’m agent Phil Coulson from S.H.I.E.L.D. Can we go somewhere to talk privately?”

“Umm.. yeah, sure,” Linda said, slightly intimidated by the badge Coulson waved at her. She guided him through the common room where a couple of veterans were playing chess and showed him the way to the nurses’ small kitchen – which was fortunately empty.

Without asking anything, Linda began to make coffee, just to occupy her hands with something.

“Miss Grant, I assure you, there’s nothing to worry about,” the agent said. He must have noticed how pale her face was. “I’m here on behalf of a… friend of mine.”

Linda still stood at the kitchen counter, turning away from Coulson, watching the slim stream of coffee pouring into the pot.

“I was informed that you are Ms Peggy Carter’s personal nurse and caregiver,” Coulson continued when Linda finally sat down and placed two mugs of hot coffee, cream and sugar between them on the table.

“Yes, we could say that. Mostly I look after her. I think she trusts me. She’s… close to my heart,” her eyes lit up fiercely, “and I won’t let anything hurt her.”

“Of course not,” Coulson nodded. “I don’t want to endanger her health. All I’d like to arrange… is a reunion.”

“A… reunion?” Linda repeated in utter confusion. “But… with who? She has no one else apart from her family. Her friends are all… dead.”

“Ms Carter’s doctor was kind to inform me that she no longer recognizes people from our era. She seems to be stuck in the 1940s,” Coulson pointed out. Linda nodded.”Then she must have mentioned a young gentleman named Steve. Has she?”

“Yes. Almost every time she speaks.”

Coulson leaned forward. “Miss Grant, what I’m about to tell you is top secret information. You have to swear that it will never leave this room. We’ll know if it does.”

After Linda’s agreement, Coulson began to tell a story. He told her an unbelievable story of a boy from Brooklyn who had nothing, but would’ve given anything to become a soldier and who sacrificed himself without hesitation in order to save a whole city from certain devastation.

And in the heart of this extraordinary hero – Captain America, as agent Coulson called him with devotion in his voice – was a special spot for a girl. A girl who served in the army. Who slapped privates without hesitation. Who would put on her sassiest dress in the brightest tone of red just to walk into a bar and talk to him for a couple of minutes. Who seemed to be immune to Bucky’s charm. Who only saw Steve. Who’s been waiting for him – for almost seventy years.

Whose name was Peggy Carter.

Linda sat in amazement for a long time after Coulson had finished the story.

“So… are you saying that Steve Rogers had been trapped under the ice for about 70 years and he was hibernated, so he hasn’t aged a day since WWII? And now he wants to see his beloved Peggy again?”

“Exactly,” Coulson nodded and watched the nurse as she considered the proposal.

“Well, I can’t see any obstacle,” she said finally. “I mean, she will be the least surprised one, I think.”

“Exactly,” Coulson said again, this time managing a light smile.

*

“Good morning, Miss Carter. My name is Linda Grant, I’m your nurse and I’ve brought you breakfast” Linda said as she placed the tray in front of the fragile old lady.

“Nice to meet you honey. L-Linda, is it? Nice name…” Peggy murmured to herself and took a spoonful of porridge.

“Why don’t we go and take a seat on the terrace after breakfast?” Linda proposed. “Today is a special day, you know. A yellow cab is going to stop in front of the house sometime soon. You want to know who’ll arrive with it?”

“N-nno,” grimaced Peggy. “Taxis… deceive you. You can never know who’s driving… Have I ever told you the story when I almost got hit by a cab?” she had that vacant look in her eyes again, but finally Linda could make her finish her breakfast. Then she turned on the radio and set it to a retro station. Peggy kept humming the lyrics to herself as she got dressed with a little bit of help.

“I have to go now,” said the nurse and stroked the silky white locks back from the old lady’s face. “But I’ll return with a huge surprise, I promise.”

*

A fist bumped on his door and the following shout made Steve dart out of his bed.

“Wake up Cap! You’ve got a date! Better not be late again!” Tony’s voice echoed around the Avengers mansion. Steve could only wish that the others had already woken up.

He stumbled out of his room, making a beeline for the kitchen – where the whole team was waiting just for him. Clint and Tony were standing side by side, grinning like two maniacs, visibly only waiting for the perfect moment to start the constant flow of jokes. Fortunately Natasha’s stinging glance silenced them for a couple of minutes. Bruce handed him a cup of coffee and Steve settled between Tasha and Thor to have breakfast – after a bone-cracking hug from the thunderer, of course.

“So Steve, tell me… what is the plan?” Clint asked, a little bit too casually.

“Umm… I don’t know,” Steve yawned and spread butter on a toast. “Coulson said he’s gonna pick me up around noon and take me to the retirement home.“

“I see… and what will you give her? A bouquet made of knitting needles?” said Tony and Clint finally burst out laughing. Steve only growled at them as they were bending in half from laughter, banging on the counter with their hands. They mumbled incomprehensible words which seemed to be hilarious for them.

“Oh, come on! Even you have to admit that this is a heartwarming scene,” Natasha said as the boys finally stopped laughing. “I don’t expect it from you, Stark, since you probably have no heart, but maybe you could appreciate the joy of reunion, Clint.” Barton coughed and turned away, while Tony wiped the tears from his eyes.

“I really do think that this is great. But in my opinion, it’s going to have a horribly deteriorating effect on Steve’s expectation about women,” he said which made Clint crack up again.

“My expectations are realistic. If I hadn’t been frozen for all these years, I’d be sitting next to her in New Jersey right now, with as many wrinkles on my face as on hers,” Steve said in a calm voice. “Besides, our first kiss was meant to be the last one. It was too perfect to be repeated.”

“Now you’re talking!” exclaimed Tony with a spark in his eyes. “So she kissed that well, huh?”

“You should ask your father,” snapped back Steve which earned him a grimace from Tony and another chuckling laugh from Clint.

Agent Coulson really came for him at noon. One of the huge black cars of S.H.I.E.L.D. was parking outside.

“We’ve been warned not to arrive in a yellow taxi,” explained Phil as they left the tower behind. Then he pulled out something from his pocket and handed it to Steve. “This had been found a couple of days ago, among the ruins of the ship. I wanted to polish it before giving it back to you…”

Steve stared at the item with his mouth open. It was his compass, the one with Peggy’s picture on the inner side. He thought it has long been washed away by the icy waves of the Atlantic.

He stared at the picture of that young girl. “I wanted to marry her,” he whispered. “All I ever wanted was to defeat HYDRA and then return home – to Peggy. But at least she found herself someone else.”

“Her husband’s name was Roger Hunter. He died 5 years ago.”

“Was he a good man?”

“I’ve heard so, Captain.”

“Peggy would’ve deserved the best,” Steve murmured.

“I know. But he disappeared,” said Coulson in a warm voice.

They didn’t talk until they reached their destination. Steve was replaying his conversation with Coulson from the previous day.

“ _Captain! We found her," said the agent on the phone._

_"She’s alive? This is great! Where is she?"_

_"Ms Carter currently lives in a retirement home in New Jersey, Captain. But I have to inform you-"_

_"That’s awesome! When can I visit her?"_

_"A soon as possible, because-"_

_"Then let’s go right now! Guys, guys did you hear that! Peggy’s alive! I’m going to see her and-"_

_"CAPTAIN Rogers!" Coulson’s raised voice finally caught Steve almost ecstatic mind’s attention. As far as he could remember, this was the only occasion when Coulson raised his voice against him. "Sorry. Captain, are you listening? This is important. We don’t have much time. There’s something important that you need to know about Peggy."_

_"What is it?"_

_After a deep breath Coulson said the words he had feared the most, "She’s dying."_

_For a whole minute, Steve was just staring at his phone. "What?" the question was not more than a gasp, but Coulson heard it. Coulson always listened._

_"She has Alzheimer’s disease, and it’s getting worse every day. I’ve been informed that she now doesn’t recognize her own children, and each morning it’s more and more difficult for her to remember her older memories as well. We don’t know when she will reach the point when her long-term memory impairs and slowly her body forgets even how to operate itself. She doesn’t know that 70 years had passed, she thinks that we are in the year 1944, probably not long after your plane crash. But she always believed that you were alive. She talks about you every day. She’s still waiting for you, Captain."_

_Several minutes had passed until Coulson dared to break the silence again._

_"I’m deeply sorry, Captain. I assume, you’d like to see her now more than ever…" (Was that a shot of jealousy in his voice?)_

_"Yes. Yes, I do," Steve finally said. I have a date to make up.”_

A woman was already waiting for them in front of the gates. She was wearing the white uniform of nurses, but her spiky black hair and pure face showed that she was still very young.

“Captain, this is Linda Grant,” said Coulson. “Linda, this is Captain Steve Rogers.”

“Hi, nice to meet you,” the girl had a friendly smile and a warm flicker in her blue eyes. “This way please.”

She guided them through the doors and floors, until they reached a glass door that lead to the terrace on the 2nd floor. Steve could only make out that there was a figure sitting beside a tiny table.

“That’s her,” whispered Linda. “Go on, talk to her. If there’s any problem, we’ll be next doors.”

Steve nodded and opened the door. As she heard the footsteps, the lady at the table slowly raised her head and their eyes locked.

“Steve,” she smiled at him.

“Peggy,” that was all Steve sighed as he sunk into the chair next to hers. Slowly, he raised his hands and cupped her face carefully. He was expecting to find a walking skeleton with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes with dark circles underneath, but instead the woman sitting next to her was just like… the older version of Peggy. She did seem more fragile than when they first met– but she was still Peggy.

She still had shoulder-length hair, but it turned white and shimmering as snow through the years. Her face was wrinkled but soft, like a peach left under the sun, but her eyes were the same: the shade of melting milk chocolate, warm and curious and friendly.

“You’re late,” she began, with her eyes shining, a smile already playing on her lips. “Steve, it’s been a while! At least a month, if I remember correctly. Do you have any idea how scared I was? I thought I was never going to see you again, and all I could do was to wait! It feels like I’ve aged decades while I’ve been waiting…”

“Peggy, dear. You are still as beautiful as you were,” Steve answered and when Peggy laughed, it seemed like she rejuvenated. “So tell me, what did I miss in this past month?”

And Peggy told him everything.

She told him every single moment of Howard Stark’s expedition, the finding of the Tesseract and the struggle to find his ship in the ocean. She was telling all these things as if they really happened just a month ago. When Steve asked her about why she was here, she seemed to concentrate for a minute – trying to remember something that never happened. But finally she found a convenient answer, “It was Howard’s idea. He said I could use a bit of a holiday. We still have a war to fight, you know. And they need the best to win.”

At first, she had to search for words and stop time after time, but Steve didn’t let her rest, he kept asking and asking and asking. Not just about this “month” that had passed since his mission, but also random things about her life. They had spent so little time together, they barely knew each other. But now Steve wanted to know every small detail about her that her diseased mind hadn’t deleted yet. It was just like talking to the 24-year old Peggy… and seeing her through some kind of distorting mirror. After a while, her old spirit began to shine again, her eyes lit up, her voice strengthened and her laughter rang.

Some of the nurses joined them in the afternoon. They brought tea and a blanket for Peggy, but she shooed them away.

“For heaven’s sake, it’s only September! I’m neither a child nor an old lady who needs to be taken care of! Now, give me one of those cigarettes to warm me up!” The blonde nurse next to her was so baffled that she actually gave her one. With the cigarette in her mouth, she reminded Steve of her old self so badly, he felt a painful throb in his chest.

“Captain – I’m really sorry, but we’ll have to get going soon,” Coulson said.

“Okay, I just have one more thing to do,” said Steve and turned back to Peggy. “I still owe you that dance, you know.”

Peggy’s eyes lit up, but then a cloud of disappointment darkened her face. It was like she came to her senses for just a fragment of second. “I can’t Steve. I’m too old.”

“No, you are not,” Steve leaned closer, gently grabbed her by her elbows and lifted her. “You just need the right partner.”

With this, he lowered her until she was standing on her tiptoes, with basically no weight on her legs. Steve held her gently in his arms and they started dancing. From the corner of his eye, Steve saw Linda walking towards them, carrying something rectangular in her arms. In a moment, the music of the 1940s surrounded them as she turned on the radio. 

The song was an emotional, slow one – perfect for the occasion.

“Mmmmm,” Peggy murmured into Steve’s arms. “I’ve always loved that song.”

“Yeah, it’s a good one,” said Steve, his fingers playing with Peggy’s locks as they floated through the tiles, twirling and bending. 

For a moment, it seemed like they were not dancing on a terrace in the future in New Jersey, but in a crowded dance club somewhere in New York in the 1940s. And instead of nurses and Agent Coulson, they were among their friends – they were all together, young and bright and hopeful, and finally at peace.

Then the song ended and Steve was standing on the terrace again, with a really old and exhausted Peggy drifting off to sleep in his arms. He ever so gently took her in his arms and carried her off the “dance floor”, following Linda to her room. 

He placed her on the bed and covered her with a blanket. He planted a kiss on her brow and almost left the room, when her voice stopped him.

“Steve, wait,” her voice sounded old again, trembling and rusty. But when Steve turned to her once again, her eyes were shining feverishly, always reminding him of that amazing young girl.

“I’ve planned this differently… I wanted to wait for you at the airport and throw myself into your arms… but suddenly I feel so tired I can barely keep my eyes open…” she bit her lip and looked away. When she raised her head, she looked like her young self again. “I love you, Steve.”

Steve stood amazed for a moment, then his gaze softened, “I love you too, Peggy.”

“This has been the best first date of my life.”

Steve laughed, but something tightened his throat as well, “Yeah, mine too.”

Peggy smiled at him, her eyes closing slowly, “Thank you, Steve. Thank you…”

Steve stood for a while beside her bed, watching the love of his life drift away. 

“Sleep well, Peggy.”

He kissed her once again on the forehead and left the room.

Linda and Phil were waiting outside at the car. Before getting into the car, Steve stopped in front of the young nurse and kissed her hand. “Thank you, for being there for her when I couldn’t.” 

“This is my job,” said Linda, but her cheeks turned slightly pink. It suited her well. “And you were the one who did the real magic. I’m sure this is her most beautiful memory… I’ve never seen her being this energetic before. Like she’s shaken off at least 30 years…”

“More like 70,” smiled Steve and got into the car. Linda stood there at the gates and waved after them until the car completely disappeared.

*

This was Steve’s first dance – and Peggy’s last.

Peggy Carter was found dead in her bed the next morning, a happy smile still playing on her lips. The young spirit escaped its cage and the old, dried shell was left behind.

Her numerous family attended the quiet funeral, but none of them noticed the tall man standing in the shadow of a pine tree. 

Long after the relatives left, the man wiped his cheeks and stepped out of the shadow. He laid a hand on the cold white marble and sighed raggedly. Then he knelt down and carefully placed a tiny bouquet of violets to the foot of the gravestone.

“Sleep well, Peggy,” he whispered into the cool autumn breeze.

Then he stood up and walked away.

**Author's Note:**

> The song that Steve and Peggy were dancing to is We'll Meet Again. It was originally made by Vera Lynn back in 1939 (for the "occasion" of the war), but I like the Johnny Cash version a bit better.  
> It's about saying goodbye and the promise of reunion, written for soldiers leaving for the front. 
> 
>  
> 
> I'd highly appreciate your comments and reviews!  
> Thanks guys xx


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